Submissions by Ace_Avery (Clint Avery)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Words are my life. Writing poetry for 20 years. It's one of the greatest loves of mine. I have hopes of becoming a published/payed writer. Feel free to comment, or message me about my writing/questions you may have.I appreciate any interest in my work.
SELF POEM
Published
5th Mar 2013 9:33pm
5th Mar 2013 9:33pm
A Thought
I learned how to live
from the broken
sidewalks;
in a mind
state of repair.
from the broken
sidewalks;
in a mind
state of repair.
587 reads
0 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
5th Mar 2013 6:58pm
5th Mar 2013 6:58pm
For A Change
She sharpens her stilletos
after her last lapdance;
her life fits in a combination locker
near the back stage
where she keeps a change
of clothes and a picture
of her beautiful little girl
dressed in a Fairy costume.
The back alley is full of filthy dogs
waiting to bark their orders
for her late night menu;
she doesn't carry change,
it makes too much noise
when she runs.
They love the hunt;
their little red cocks
exposed
under the dim street lamps
lit with electric flame.
Her tattoos are like armour,...
after her last lapdance;
her life fits in a combination locker
near the back stage
where she keeps a change
of clothes and a picture
of her beautiful little girl
dressed in a Fairy costume.
The back alley is full of filthy dogs
waiting to bark their orders
for her late night menu;
she doesn't carry change,
it makes too much noise
when she runs.
They love the hunt;
their little red cocks
exposed
under the dim street lamps
lit with electric flame.
Her tattoos are like armour,...
792 reads
4 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
3rd Mar 2013 10:49pm
3rd Mar 2013 10:49pm
Hunger
The knife lies next to its victim;
red and delicious.
Ripe flesh
split down the middle,
blade wet with fresh juice;
a sin to commit
with intent of son setting
Hell loose.
Cut from it's core
into slices of smiles,
a man cannot resist
but to take a bite.
Sweet taste to his tongue,
soft between his teeth,
filling his hunger
for such a murderous sight.
red and delicious.
Ripe flesh
split down the middle,
blade wet with fresh juice;
a sin to commit
with intent of son setting
Hell loose.
Cut from it's core
into slices of smiles,
a man cannot resist
but to take a bite.
Sweet taste to his tongue,
soft between his teeth,
filling his hunger
for such a murderous sight.
612 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
27th Feb 2013 00:53am
27th Feb 2013 00:53am
Broke & Heartless
The telephone rings,
I pick up the receiver,
rotting silence,
hang up;
hung up on the past.
It rings again,
echoing my agony,
I let the call go
to voicemail;
no message,
only a dial tone.
I sit back
down,
annoyed
by the constant calling,
numb to it's sound.
I flip the phone
off the hook,
return to my work;
ink still bleeding over
lines on the page.
I hear the answering
machine click,
red light flashing,
furious,
I hit the button to listen;
it was love trying to call...
I pick up the receiver,
rotting silence,
hang up;
hung up on the past.
It rings again,
echoing my agony,
I let the call go
to voicemail;
no message,
only a dial tone.
I sit back
down,
annoyed
by the constant calling,
numb to it's sound.
I flip the phone
off the hook,
return to my work;
ink still bleeding over
lines on the page.
I hear the answering
machine click,
red light flashing,
furious,
I hit the button to listen;
it was love trying to call...
613 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
24th Feb 2013 10:40pm
24th Feb 2013 10:40pm
Flash Fiction
She traded her ruby red
eyed,
copper skull
and cross-bone belt buckle
to a shady tattoo artist
so she could get her nipples pierced.
The needle was cold,
his hands colder;
frost
bite,
then fire.
Her naked flesh
burning hot in the mirror.
A trail of blood and bargain bold,
she could use a drink,
but the bar across the street doesn’t serve
the under aged.
eyed,
copper skull
and cross-bone belt buckle
to a shady tattoo artist
so she could get her nipples pierced.
The needle was cold,
his hands colder;
frost
bite,
then fire.
Her naked flesh
burning hot in the mirror.
A trail of blood and bargain bold,
she could use a drink,
but the bar across the street doesn’t serve
the under aged.
550 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Feb 2013 00:39am
22nd Feb 2013 00:39am
Open Ended
His boredom is cured by the bong
hit to his lips,
swollen,
lungs like a balloon
animal inside his chest.
Gorilla kiss,
smoke thick
hanging within the lamp shade.
A mind gone far
from this place of sanctuary;
dreaming in abstract portrait stills.
They split his skull open to dissect
his thoughts,
scattered
over the operating table;
trying to sort out
the bloody mess in stainless
steel containers,
sentence fragments
going hand in hand
with shards of broken bone.
hit to his lips,
swollen,
lungs like a balloon
animal inside his chest.
Gorilla kiss,
smoke thick
hanging within the lamp shade.
A mind gone far
from this place of sanctuary;
dreaming in abstract portrait stills.
They split his skull open to dissect
his thoughts,
scattered
over the operating table;
trying to sort out
the bloody mess in stainless
steel containers,
sentence fragments
going hand in hand
with shards of broken bone.
545 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
19th Feb 2013 6:06pm
19th Feb 2013 6:06pm
Nameless
A kaleidoscope scene of empty liquor
bottles, black ashes and torn out
pages to feed the ravenous fire.
Tattooed
crows amidst my near frozen flesh,
squawking about their next meal.
13 unlucky hours
left until I fall
asleep again;
my only companion,
the chair I remain.
Bitter, old man
winter blows his furious winds;
cold and ice reign.
The pen; too heavy.
My heart; too weak.
Only in deep soliloquy
can I understand my loneliness.
...
bottles, black ashes and torn out
pages to feed the ravenous fire.
Tattooed
crows amidst my near frozen flesh,
squawking about their next meal.
13 unlucky hours
left until I fall
asleep again;
my only companion,
the chair I remain.
Bitter, old man
winter blows his furious winds;
cold and ice reign.
The pen; too heavy.
My heart; too weak.
Only in deep soliloquy
can I understand my loneliness.
...
709 reads
4 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
19th Feb 2013 1:05pm
19th Feb 2013 1:05pm
Fantasy
Her emerald eyes keep me drawn
to her freckled face;
a kiss from her ruby lips,
my hand running through her
onyx hair.
She’s a precious jewel,
a smooth stone,
wet with water from the splashing
waves of the sea.
Her beauty surmounts
that of Helen of Troy;
capable of sinking ships
and bringing men to their knees.
Such elegance and grace,
a Queen of seduction,
laced lingerie,
the colour of fire,
her legs spread wide,
tempting those brave men
at heart to enter inside
the gate to...
to her freckled face;
a kiss from her ruby lips,
my hand running through her
onyx hair.
She’s a precious jewel,
a smooth stone,
wet with water from the splashing
waves of the sea.
Her beauty surmounts
that of Helen of Troy;
capable of sinking ships
and bringing men to their knees.
Such elegance and grace,
a Queen of seduction,
laced lingerie,
the colour of fire,
her legs spread wide,
tempting those brave men
at heart to enter inside
the gate to...
657 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Feb 2013 3:20pm
16th Feb 2013 3:20pm
Junk Drawer
Three throwing
knives
underneath a tangled ball
of stereo cords
next to a deck
of playing cards
beside a deodorant stick
sitting around half a dozen
red pens
resting near a few old toys
laying by a plastic bag
filled with paper clips
and safety pins
touching a key ring
full of spares
a few inches away from
an empty watch case
by a tray of belt buckles
next to a pair of sun glasses
that surround a half empty bottle
of pills
near a set of headphones
close to an ashtray.
knives
underneath a tangled ball
of stereo cords
next to a deck
of playing cards
beside a deodorant stick
sitting around half a dozen
red pens
resting near a few old toys
laying by a plastic bag
filled with paper clips
and safety pins
touching a key ring
full of spares
a few inches away from
an empty watch case
by a tray of belt buckles
next to a pair of sun glasses
that surround a half empty bottle
of pills
near a set of headphones
close to an ashtray.
522 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Feb 2013 3:15pm
16th Feb 2013 3:15pm
Hard
We drink,
laughing at the awkward girl
in the kitchen drunk,
yapping about how she doesn’t suck
dick.
We’re all blown
away by her comment,
puzzled as to where it came
from during the conversation.
Slightly cruel remarks ensue,
it really doesn’t help
that unbeknownst to her we froze
two cocksicle trays in the freezer
before the party started;
we had no idea she was
even coming.
The foreshadowing is comedic gold;
we can’t
wait
to ask if she wants...
laughing at the awkward girl
in the kitchen drunk,
yapping about how she doesn’t suck
dick.
We’re all blown
away by her comment,
puzzled as to where it came
from during the conversation.
Slightly cruel remarks ensue,
it really doesn’t help
that unbeknownst to her we froze
two cocksicle trays in the freezer
before the party started;
we had no idea she was
even coming.
The foreshadowing is comedic gold;
we can’t
wait
to ask if she wants...
591 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Feb 2013 2:49am
16th Feb 2013 2:49am
Bait
Too much sleep,
not enough food,
stomach growls like a beast,
lack of appetite,
bad mood.
Dirty laundry,
a couple of coins to my name,
I write these words on the window;
call it pain.
No sun,
thunder clouds and lightening strikes,
haunted with memories
of what love used to feel like.
The man I am now
has drunk the wrong potion.
I’m tired of treading water,
too long lost in this endless ocean.
I once saw a beautiful fish
being devoured by a ravenous shark,
and here I am,
still starving in...
not enough food,
stomach growls like a beast,
lack of appetite,
bad mood.
Dirty laundry,
a couple of coins to my name,
I write these words on the window;
call it pain.
No sun,
thunder clouds and lightening strikes,
haunted with memories
of what love used to feel like.
The man I am now
has drunk the wrong potion.
I’m tired of treading water,
too long lost in this endless ocean.
I once saw a beautiful fish
being devoured by a ravenous shark,
and here I am,
still starving in...
556 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Ace_Avery (Clint Avery)
